


We're Coming Out of this on The Other Side (Alive and Whole)

by buckysawsteve



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, Tumblr: prompt, WAR ERA STUCKY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:39:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysawsteve/pseuds/buckysawsteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky was pissed off and he had every goddamn right to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Coming Out of this on The Other Side (Alive and Whole)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steveandbucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveandbucky/gifts).



> Written for the lovely Emma who had requested some war-era Stucky. 
> 
> Edited by myself and quickly, so there is bound to be some mistakes. I apologize in advance.

Bucky waited until the Commandos headed back to their tents before he dragged Steve into the back room off the bar and locked the door behind them. All night he had festered and wound himself so tight that he was sure he would pop. He couldn’t ignore this, refused to and goddamn Steve Rogers for that. Crazy, self-sacrificing bastard that he was. Bucky was going to clobber him, maybe even wring his damn neck for being so careless with his own life. There was only so much he could handle, and he could handle a fucking lot, but the shit he had heard over the last couple days was enough to wake Bucky up; because the very idea of losing Steve was something he couldn’t fathom. Something he wouldn’t survive. In other words, Bucky was pissed and he had nowhere else to put it all.

He placed his hands flat on the closed door, squeezed his eyes shut as he focused on reigning in his temper a little. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that Steve was bracing himself for a fight. It was the Steve Rogers go-to fucking pose and it drove Bucky nuts, had him gritting his teeth together in an attempt to keep himself from yelling. Oh God, he wanted to yell. He wanted to yell so loud that the walls in this joint shook. He wanted to yell until Steve got it through his thick goddamn skull that Bucky was in love with him; irrevocably and unconditionally in love with him – that Steve’s goddamn life wasn’t his own anymore. He shared it with Bucky. Every breath he took belonged to Bucky too and dammit –

He balled his hand into a fist, banged it hard against the wall –

He wasn’t so sure he was strong enough for this, to watch Steve put his life in danger every goddamn day and knowing that every Hydra base they tore through could be Steve’s last – could be their last. He pounded the door again, again, again until he felt Steve’s hand come out and grab his, hold it still.

Steve didn’t say anything, just turned Bucky around until his back was pressed up against the door. He moved in, closer than Bucky could ever remember him getting when the nights weren’t cold and the heat didn’t work, and he felt his heart rate kick up; felt himself stir and thicken in his trousers. He wanted to move away, distance himself from Steve because there was no way to hide it. No way for Steve not to notice. He ground his jaw together, felt it tick with the movement and he forced himself to continue to meet Steve’s gaze head on. Whatever was about to go down, right here right now, he was damned if he’d hang his head in shame over it.

He almost fucking died, after all.

Steve had almost died countless of times, and that didn’t excuse anything. It didn’t excuse fuck all.

Steve pushed his hand back against the door and held it there, fingers tight around Bucky’s wrist. His eyes dropped to Bucky’s mouth, lingered and Bucky watched, enamoured, as a pink tongue darted out to moisten lips Bucky’s has dreamed of kissing. Steve lifted his free hand, dragged it across Bucky’s bottom lip.

He looked almost angry, and Bucky wasn’t so what to do with that. What reason did Steve have to be pissed off? Bucky didn’t ask for any of this. He didn’t ask to be drafted and he sure as shit didn’t ask to be kidnap by some bat shit crazy Nazi cult. So what gave Steve fucking Rogers the right?

Bucky jutted his chin out, defiant. He would be damned if he was going to be the first one to say something. Actually, fuck that. He wanted to be the first one to say something. He tugged the wrist Steve had pressed against the door in an attempt to get himself free. He didn’t so much as budge. He tried again. Nothing.

He huffed, and felt the anger he had been trying so hard to tamper down rear its ugly head. He kicked Steve, kicked him hard and drew some satisfaction from the way Steve grunted with it. He still didn’t move though. Instead, he pressed himself flush against Bucky in an attempt to keep him from trying again. And dammit, Bucky was still hard. He dropped his head back against the door, squeezed his eyes shut tight.

All it took was the stillness in the room and the harsh rise and fall of Steve’s chest for Bucky to catch on – to realize that the hardness in his pants mirrored Steve’s own and it was pressed right up against him. Bucky could feel Steve resting against him and he had to bite back a groan.

Steve lowered his head, brought his mouth inches away from Bucky’s and hovered there in silent question. Bucky wanted to say no. He wanted to shove Steve back and call him every goddamn name in the book, because the shit that Steve put him through and would continue to put him through warranted that. Right? Yet, he found himself pushing forward and slotting his mouth against Steve’s like he would die if he didn’t.

The kiss was sloppy, wet and Bucky didn’t give a shit. Steve’s lips were softer than any dames, and despite the lack of experience, pretty damn controlling too. Steve licked his way into Bucky’s mouth, quivered against Bucky with every moan he drew out.

When Steve finally pulled back, he was flushed and panting. Bucky knew he must look the same.

“Goddamn you, Rogers,” he said, unable to hold the words back now that his mouth was free. “Just who do you think you are huh? Jumping on grenades and” –

Steve’s mouth cut him off again, swallowed whatever words had been on the tip of Bucky’s tongue. He hated himself for letting Steve do it; hated himself for even wanting Steve to do it.

When Steve finally let go of Bucky’s wrist, Bucky seized the opportunity to turn the tables a little bit. He shoved Steve, shoved him hard and when he stumbled back, eyes wide, Bucky did it again. He shoved Steve until his back hit the far wall and his face was red, hands curled up into fists at his side.

All Bucky good think was: good. If Steve wanted a fight, Bucky was damn well going to give him one. Maybe that went against everything that Bucky set out to do in the first place, but every bone in his body told him that he needed this. That Steve needed it too. He surged forward, tangled the front of Steve’s uniform in his hands and –

Dragged him in for a kiss that was almost savage. All teeth and zero finesse, Bucky put all the anger he had been carrying around with him for years – _years_ – into the kiss. He let his hands roam over Steve, pulled and gripped and shoved at whatever he could. Steve let him, in fact, Steve encouraged him. He made all kinds of noises that went straight to Bucky’s cock and clouded over whatever resolve that he had left to put a stop to this. Hell, he didn’t think he had any resolve to begin with. Not with Steve.

“So goddamn reckless all the time,” he muttered, teeth pulling Steve’s bottom lip. “When are you gonna start thinking about yourself, huh? When does Steve come first?”

When did Steve come first, ever? Always, fucking always as far was Bucky was concerned. He always put Steve first, placed his wants and his needs before his own; and he didn’t do it just because Steve had no one else to do it for him. Bucky did it because he fucking wanted to. Because one day he woke up and realized that Steve’s happiness should be placed above his own. No, that wasn’t right. Steve’s happiness made Bucky fucking happy.

“Putting myself first right now,” Steve said. He dropped his hands to Bucky’s hips, gripped him tight and before Bucky could protest, his feet were off the ground and his legs were wrapped around Steve’s waist.

They stood there like that for a long time; Bucky in Steve’s arms, their eyes locked. Had Steve always been this beautiful? Probably. But looking at him now, Bucky felt like he was really looking for the first time and fuck, how stupid was that? He had been staring at the same mug for most of his goddamn life.

“Stevie…” and it came out tortured, like he didn’t fucking know what to do with the shit that was quickly bottling up to the surface. It got all mixed up with the anger inside of him, twisted and turned until Bucky couldn’t recognize a goddamn thing except Steve.

“I’m so fucking mad,” he whispered.

Steve grunted as he spun them around, reversed their positions yet again. This time, however, Bucky found he really didn’t mind. He kind of liked this. Liked the new Steve. The stronger Steve, the healthier Steve, the pick Bucky up like he weighed nothing Steve.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky shoved his hands into Steve’s hair, and yanked. “You don’t, pal. You really fucking don’t.”

He watched as Steve’s eyes closed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Oh, the things he wanted to do to Steve. He wanted to take him apart and marvel in the noises he knew Steve would make. He wanted Steve to squirm. He pulled Steve’s hair a little harder, relished in the way Steve’s breath hitched.

“How many times have I patched you up because you were too damn stupid to run away from a fight? Ha. Now look where you are – where we are – and fuck, Steve. I’m going to be saving your ass all over again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Buck.”

“Dammit, Steve.”

 Bucky let his words tapper off as Steve lowered them into the floor – the dirty fucking floor but Bucky wasn’t about to complain about that. This was a whole new ball game now. Steve was all hard, lean muscle and he could flatten Bucky if he wanted to. And he did, he covered Bucky with his body and Bucky could feel every ripple of his muscles as he ran his hands over Steve’s back.

“It wasn’t a walk in the fucking park for me either, Buck. Knowing that your unit had been captured.” He pulled at the buttons of Bucky’s uniform until the sides of his coat fell open. “I thought you were dead.”

He pressed his forehead to Bucky’s as he moved on to the buttons of Bucky’s dress shirt. “God, Buck. I’ve….”

“You’ve what?”

Steve’s fingers paused as he lifted his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

“Get a fella naked?” Bucky quipped, brow raised. This felt good, he realized, too goddamn good; joking around with Steve like this.

Steve huffed a laugh as he tugged Bucky up, pushed coat and shirt off of him. “Get you naked.”

“Well, all you had to do was ask.”

“Yeah?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, pal.”

 It didn’t take a genius to place the emotions that played across Steve’s face, each one melting into another until Bucky was breathless with it. They had wasted so much time, too much and Bucky would be damned if they would waste more.

“Clothes off,” he said. “Now.”

Steve scrambled off of him and everything was a whirlwind of clothes until they were standing across from each other, naked. It shouldn’t have been as awkward as it was; they had seen each other naked countless of times. They had lived in a dive apartment that was barely big enough to fit two people but had somehow made it work. So yeah, they had seen more of each other than they probably would have otherwise. Well, until now of course. Now they were seeing a lot of each other with different intentions.

Funny how the air in the room had changed so dramatically since he locked the door behind him, Bucky mused. He wasn’t angry anymore, not really. Right now all he was, was grateful for this moment. He took a step towards Steve, ran a tentative hand over his shoulder and down his arm. So different from the boy he had known before. Not necessarily a bad different, either; though to be honest, he’d miss the skinny punk that Steve used to be.

He ran his fingers across Steve’s taunt stomach. “Jesus, what’d they do to you? You’re like one of those sculpted statues, you know that right?”

Just like that, things weren’t awkward anymore.

“I’m still me,” Steve said. “The same guy you knew back in Brooklyn.”

Bucky had never once doubted that for a second and yet, it was almost a relief to hear Steve say it. He nodded, let his hand trail lower until his fingers were brushing coerce hair. He watched Steve’s pupils dilate, and he let his fingers slide lower until they were wrapped around Steve’s cock.

“How’s that, pal?”

Steve swallowed, once, twice… “Good.”

Bucky worked his hand over Steve slowly, his eyes trained on Steve. He took note of every hitch in Steve’s breath and the way, if Bucky turned his hand just right, Steve would lift himself onto his toes, body leaning into Bucky’s hand.

“Buck…” Steve whispered, wrecked. It made Bucky grin, had him lowering down onto his knees.

The thing of it was, Bucky used to imagine what this would be like; late at night protected by a blanket of darkness in the bedroom he shared with Steve. Every time, he would take Steve into his mouth and revel in the weight of Steve against his tongue. Relish in the noises that Steve would make. It had been enough to get Bucky off without even really having to try. But the thing about fantasies: reality was always so much better.

Steve was flushed from head to toe, chest rising and falling heavily. Bucky didn’t take his off of him – didn’t want to – as he secured his hand around Steve’s cock and leaned in. He teased Steve at first, tongue flicking out and giving Steve’s cocks the tiniest of licks. It had Steve rocking into Bucky, toes curled and hands fisted in Bucky’s hair. He liked it; liked how each new lick had Steve pulling that much harder on his hair. God, Steve was beautiful. Probably the most beautiful thing that Bucky had ever seen – always fucking had been – but right now, he was marvellous. His skin glistened, eyes fluttering open and shut, mouth all bitten red. He looked like something otherworldly. Maybe he was. Bucky would never fully understand what they had done to Steve.

Bucky wanted to see if he could make Steve sweat. Make him beg. So, he swooped in, took as much of Steve in his mouth as he could. Steve was big; not just in length, but in width too. He stretched Bucky’s mouth wide, had him pausing to adjust until finally he felt Steve hit the back of his throat.

Bucky groaned, eyes falling closed because this? This was better than anything his imagination could have every conjured up. Steve was heavy against his tongue; pulsing and Bucky swirled his tongue around him as best as he could before he eased back, inch by inch; until he released Steve with a wet popping sound that seemed to echo off of the walls around them.

“Buck…Buck…” Steve said his name like some goddamn prayer, and maybe it was. They had war surrounding them every which way they looked. Men were dying – died – and they could easily be among them; today, tomorrow, two weeks from now. All they had was this and even that could very well be temporary.

Bucky took Steve into his mouth again, wrapped a hand around the base as the other knocked Steve’s legs apart. Steve gasped when Bucky’s fingers brushed against him; the cheeks of his ass clenching, holding Bucky there.

He pulled off of Steve, wiped at the mess on his face and he grinned up at Steve; smug. “You like that, Stevie?”

Steve could only nod as he ground himself down against Bucky’s curious fingers.

“Want more?”

“Yes. But….”

Bucky raised a brow. “But what, pal?”

He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but Steve flushed even more. “I want to fuck you, Bucky.”

It shouldn’t have sounded so dirty, coming from Steve’s lips but it did and it was almost enough to have Bucky crashing over the edge without Steve so much as touching him. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck.” He dragged Steve down to him, pulled him down on top of him and with Steve’s weight blanketing him said, “Yeah, Stevie. Yes.”

Steve’s lips and hands were everywhere then, touching and marking up Bucky’s skin as though he owned it. He did, Bucky thought. Steve owned every goddamn inch of him. He tipped his head back, nails digging into the floor underneath him as Steve sucked a hickey on the bone of his hip. Bucky lost track of Steve’s hands, which probably wasn’t a good thing but he couldn’t bring himself to care, because fuck. Was this what it was like to fly?

It felt like he was flying.

His back arched, almost painfully, when Steve’s mouth finally made it to his cock. His mouth was hot, and Bucky couldn’t help the way he fucked into it. Steve gagged, and it sent shivers through Bucky’s body. Rocked him down into his very core. He did it again, didn’t give himself time to hate himself for it either. It felt too good, sounded too good and dammit, Steve could handle it. Hell, he even deserved it.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows to watch.

Steve’s face was red and sloppy, drool falling from his chin to pool on Bucky’s thighs. It should be disgusting, right? He wanted to see more of it.

“Hold still, Stevie,” he said; ordered. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”

Despite his order, Steve pulled off of Bucky and eased back until he was resting on his knees. He should have known better than to give Steve an order. Fuck, he did know better. He wanted to groan, rewind the whole damn thing because now his cock was free of Steve’s mouth and dammit, he ached.

“Aw, pal….” He started, but stopped when Steve fixed him with that look – the one that told Bucky it was probably best to stop talking. He clamped his mouth shut against the onslaught of words that wanted to flow. Steve could do that to him sometimes, knock him down a few pegs without even so much as trying. Steve wanted the reigns back to some of the control he had unconsciously given Bucky.

Bucky was more than okay with that.

Steve lunged forward, his hands grabbing Bucky’s wrists and pinning them above his head. He looked hungry, a little wild and it did things to Bucky that he couldn’t even begin to explain. Steve took him out of his body completely, had him squirming against the hold Steve had on him as he babbled things he forgot the moment they left his mouth.

Steve was fucking him open, slowly; like they had all the goddamn time in the world and for a moment, Bucky forgot they were in a war.

They were back in Brooklyn and they were on Steve’s squeaky cot, rutting together like teenagers; except Steve had his mouth where no mouth should be and Bucky was screaming with how fuckin good it was.

He felt Steve’s hand clamp over his mouth to muffle the noise he was making.

Bucky dug his heels into the floor so he could push himself further onto Steve’s fingers, whined when he wasn’t getting enough. “Steve,” he panted against Steve’s hand. “Steve…”

Steve didn’t let up. He continued to fuck Bucky with his fingers, hard and slow until Bucky couldn’t stay still any longer. He was a mess, wound up so tight that if he didn’t get Steve inside of him now –

He clawed at Steve, desperate.

“I got you, Buck. I got you.”

Steve climbed up Bucky, mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses as he went. Bucky could feel Steve’s cock against him, hard and leaking, and he lifted his hips; the movement making Steve brush up against the very spot that Bucky needed him.

Steve slotted his mouth against Bucky’s, licked his way into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky let himself get lost in feel of it; committed it all to memory just in case.

“You sure about this, Buck?” Steve asked, his forehead pressed to Bucky’s. “We don’t have anything.”

“Spits good.”

“You deserve more than just spit, Buck.”

Bucky rolled his hips against Steve’s, moaned. “Just want you, pal. Don’t care how.”

Steve regarded him, but ultimately gave in as he nestled himself between Bucky’s legs, cock sliding teasingly between his ass. Bucky wrapped a leg around Steve, pulled him closer and groaned, loud, when he felt the head of Steve’s cock press against him.

Steve huffed, hand coming down between them to hold the base of his cock as he slid in. He was careful about it, eased in inch by inch as Bucky adjusted to his girth. Steve didn’t stop until he was buried inside of Bucky.

Bucky whimpered, eyes falling closed as he gave into the sensation.

Steve filled him up, made him whole again; plastered all the holes that had been left inside of him since his rescue. Steve’s movements were tedious, the rotation of his hips well calculated and Bucky found himself moving with Steve. For someone who had never done this before, Steve sure had it all down pat. Bucky could hear the sound of skin against skin, Steve’s groans; the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor but it all sounded distant next to the noises Steve was making.

He ran his hands up Steve’s arms, locked them around his neck as he dragged Steve’s mouth back down to his.

It felt like he was on fire.

“Buck,” and his breath was hot against Bucky’s lips. “Fuck.”

Bucky laughed, low and soft as he let his head fall back against the floor. The war had ruined Steve, just a little – at least in the regards that this Steve Rogers was more inclined to drop a fuck here and there. Bucky loved it. It was a little reminder that Steve was no different from any of them, not in the ways that mattered.

“Roll over, Buck.”

He felt Steve grab his shoulders when he failed to move fast enough; those hands – fucking huge, strong hands – propped Bucky up in the exact way that Steve wanted him: on all fours. Bucky figured that maybe he should be a little embarrassed, even offended but all thoughts quickly evaporated the moment that Steve slammed back into him.

There was nothing slow about the pace this time. Steve was brutal about it, fucking Bucky as though his life depended on it. Bucky couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All he could do was hold on as Steve drove into him, his own cock aching between his legs. He wanted to touch himself; wanted Steve to touch him more, so he held on. Held back.

He knew the moment that Steve was close, felt it in the way his fingernails broke skin and the way his thrusts lost their rhythm.

“C’mon, Stevie.”

It didn’t take much more than the encouragement from Bucky to have Steve falling against his back, body spasming as his orgasm tore through him. Steve wasn’t quiet about it, not at all and Bucky found that he didn’t care. Let people hear them, if there was anyone left in the building.

Eventually, Steve stilled; his hand lazily finding Bucky’s cock and stroking.

Bucky whimpered.

“S’good?”

“Keep going, Stevie.”

Steve grunted as he flipped Bucky over and splayed himself on the floor between Bucky’s legs. He had his mouth around Bucky’s cock and fingers circling the slick dripping out of Bucky.

Bucky swore, a litany of words that fell from his mouth and whatever they were, they spurred Steve on. His suctioned his mouth tighter on Bucky’s cock as he fingers worked Bucky over roughly until his whole body went taunt. The world around him blurred a little as he trembled. He felt Steve’s arms around him, gathering him up and pressing him close.

“Oh Buck,” Steve whispered, face buried in the crock of Bucky’s neck.

“I’m still pretty pissed at you,” Bucky said a little while later, when the drumming in his ears had dissipated and his heart rate had slowed down.

Steve laughed. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a while, clutching each other. War may be a horrible place, filled with destruction and death; but Bucky figured that as long as they had each other, they’d have a fighting chance of coming out of it on the other side – alive and whole.

Bucky was kind of fucking counting on it.


End file.
